


a righteous kind of violence

by bookwormywriter



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, BAMF Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, BAMF Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Blood and Violence, Bottom Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Breathplay, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Knifeplay, M/M, Top Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26034847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormywriter/pseuds/bookwormywriter
Summary: It's an itch they need to scratch every once and a while.  A different kind of doing good.  More hands on.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 28
Kudos: 330





	a righteous kind of violence

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely self-indulgent. I come from the Hannibal fandom where dark, twisted Murder Husbands is a thing and killing bad people for the right reasons makes us feel good. This fic contains content of Joe and Nicky hunting and killing bad guys and getting off on it, be warned.

It was rare now that they did this; especially with the introduction of Nile into their family. She had brought a light into their lives. Still, sometimes, the hunger grew in the dark until it was a roar. They did the wrong things for the right reasons. Always had. The reasons changed with time but the bone deep satisfaction that came from their work never did.

It was Nicky who brought it up this time, cheek pressed to Joe’s shoulder in the shower. “I want to go hunting.”

“Mmm.” Joe tipped his head slightly to nuzzle at Nicky’s hair as he turned off the shower. “Anything in mind?”

Nicky shook his head slowly. “Not yet, give me time to look.”

Joe’s hands cupped Nicky’s face and he kissed Nicky’s forehead, his nose, his mouth. “Take your time.”

Nicky tipped his head back, kissing the line of Joe’s jaw. “Anything you want?”

Joe stepped from the shower, towelling himself off and beginning to dress. Nicky followed, pulling his shirt on over his still damp torso. Joe brushed his teeth, studying himself in the mirror before turning to rest his hip against the sink as Nicky hung up the damp towels. “A challenge would be nice.”

Nicky’s smile was vicious.

\- - - - -

Two weeks later they were alone in Grozny. The Chechen Republic had come a long way since the last time they’d seen it just before the start of the wars in the 1990s, but was still a rebuilding nation. Nicky had found a new politico named Alik Ryzaev, someone from the President’s inner rankings, and with opinions and actions that spoke for themselves. He was notorious for being nationalist and homophobic, as well as quote-unquote traditionalist—he proudly bragged about stoning two women to death and nearly killing a man. He’d surrounded himself with a small contingent of men and women who were often armed to the teeth and an inch from the edge after more than a few assassination attempts. 

Joe had asked for a challenge, after all. 

They spent the first four days staked in their apartment and following him on social media. At night they tracked his movements through the city. He never kept to a routine, which Nicky had to admit he was a bit intrigued by, the man and his people were interesting prey. 

“He has a meeting tomorrow,” Joe murmured, looking up from his laptop to where Nicky was examining blueprints. “Late at night. They rented out a restaurant.”

“Mmm.” It was a move similar to what the old Russian mafia would do. Nicky looked up finally. “How do you know?”

“I’ve been getting lessons from Book, I managed to get into his assistant’s planner.”

Nicky moved from the small table in the space to where Joe was laying on his stomach on the bed, sitting next to him. Joe pushed the screen back so Nicky could read across the screen. The meeting place was a shisha bar; a small intimate party of eight, plus Ryzaev. He hummed, pulling out his own phone and thumbed through it before finding the address. 

“Want to go take a look?”

Joe tipped his head to the side in thought. “Perhaps that’s a good idea. Maybe we can look for an easy way in, since we haven’t been invited.”

Joe nodded, watching Nicky look down at his phone again before Nicky stood from the bed, dropped the phone to the floor and crushed it under the weight of the sturdy wooden table. Joe rolled to the side, pulling out a large electromagnet from his bag and placing it on the keyboard of the laptop, the screen glitched out and the speakers let out a whine before everything cut off.

Nicky slipped on a pair of sunglasses and a messenger bag, taking the keys and pocketing them. Joe pulled himself off the bed and stepped into a pair of boots. “Do you think the shisha will be any good?”

Nicky rolled his eyes. “You would think of the shisha first.”

\- - - - -

The shisha was, in fact, good. Strong lemon and mint with hints of cinnamon. Joe and Nicky conversed lazily while sprawled on the soft low cushions and drinking the strong black tea with lemon. The food was also utterly delicious; served by an older woman and her granddaughter; sprawling plates of warm lamb simmered in yogurt and potatoes, strong pickled vegetables that burned the back of your jaw, warm bread with soft cheese. 

Joe exhaled slowly, licking his lips and taking a sip of the tea as he then took a spoonful of food and leaned back with a contented groan. “We need to do this more often.”

Nicky snorted, pulling his mouth away from the mouthpiece of the hose and let the smoke curl lazily from his mouth. “You never got over your obsession with Constantiople, did you?”

“Nope.” Joe grinned, taking a slice of beet and sucked it from his fingers, uncaring as they stained slightly red. “I’ve been listening in. They’re closing up tonight and giving the keys to someone from the entourage. If we can get in tonight or early in the morning we’ll have time to set up before the event.”

Nicky tore a piece of flatbread in two and gathered a piece of lamb with it before folding it into his mouth and looking around the space thoughtfully. It was a simple two floor cafe with a small cellar for storage, a kitchen and wide open rooms. Hiding would be difficult. “Laying in wait could be a challenge. We could sneak in.”

Joe hummed and took a few draws from the pipe, offering the waitress a bright smile when she replaced their kettle with a fresh one. He shifted a bit, stretching himself out to look at the room more fully. Nicky mimicked the pose, close enough to feel his heat but not touching. Joe’s eyes drifted, over the sheer curtains that offered some semblance of privacy and low partitioned walls. They wouldn’t have much cover. 

“Guns, you think?”

Nicky tipped his head to the opposite side, clearly musing. “Perhaps. Maybe half with guns? Maybe two with automatics. Depends on his level of paranoia.”

“I did bring supplies.”

Nicky tipped his head back slightly to give Joe a bland look. “I would hope.” He grinned when Joe kicked him gently. “I was thinking about using that gift you gave me in Brussels.”

Joe inhaled sharply, sputtering a bit when it caused too much smoke to go into his lungs and sent Nicky a glare. Nicky just watched him back passively with the barest hint of a smile. “If you’re going to do that I think that we should wait and sneak in.”

Nicky nodded once, settling back down. “You’re certain none of the staff will be here?”

“As certain as I can be.”

“Good.”

\- - - - -

They had taken their time to get ready. Both dressed in black, weapons stored under their clothing. They wore protective vests, thin and barely noticeable under their layers. It was well past sundown when they left the apartment, cool for the summer. They didn’t speak, but also didn’t need to. 

The surrounding buildings were dimly lit or dark, signalling their closure, and though the hookah bar is also dimly lit there was sound coming from it. They slipped behind the back of the building and Joe boosted Nicky up onto a small outcropping to the roof, Nicky hauled Joe up after him and they made their way toward the broken window Joe had found the night before. They got in and onto the second level overlook without much issue. 

Nicky lowered himself to the ground and moved forward, peering over the ledge toward the small gathering. They were clearly drunk and had been for a while, arguing over politics. Cocaine was easy to spot on the top of a varnished wood table and Ryzaev had a barely dressed woman sprawled in his lap, clearly not a practitioner of what he preached. Nicky frowned, eyes skimming over the group and spotting another girl. The escorts were an unexpected variable. He turned to look at Joe, before looking back at an outburst. 

The other escort was causing a fuss and had gotten slapped across the face for it. She and the other girl, who was spitting venom now, moved out of the room. One of the men called after them, lamenting, but a loud slam of the door followed and the party paused a second before everyone burst into laughter. Joe ground his teeth and shifted from his position near Nicky to move around the encircling balcony so he was just above the man who had slapped the girl. 

Nicky took in a breath, held it for a beat, and watched Joe go over the railing and into the fray. Joe was fast. It was one of the things Nicky loved about him. Efficient and brutal when he wanted to be. The offending man was dead, hands clutching to his freely bleeding throat before anyone else in the room realized Joe was there. The man’s body hit the cushioned floor, sprawled at Joe’s feet, and Joe, the utter bastard, smirked.

One of the female bodyguards reached for a gun and Nicky launched himself out and down, collided into her sending her forward onto her front, the gun flying away. She elbowed back at him but Nicky pressed into her spine with one knee, his other leg braced by her hip. He reached back for his stiletto and wrapped his fingers around the hilt before lashing out with it, lightning quick. The smooth, needle-like blade lanced into her throat and then withdrew. She went limp under him.

Everything seemed to slow down as Nicky swung up off his knees and slammed his foot into a charging guard, kicked him hard in the stomach before he went higher. The man lashed back, a long switchblade in his hand and Nicky grinned. He was sloppy and drunk. Left too much open, but it was amusing. Nicky dodged back from the first few quick slashes toward him, catching the man’s arm and twisting it until it snapped. He caught the falling knife and jammed it into the man’s knee, hobbling him. The man went down with a howl, wrenching out the knife and lunged again. Nicky caught him, threw him, heard him collide with the wall. Nicky moved forward. 

A gunshot rang out and Joe’s head whipped around when he felt the searing heat of a bullet pass through his shoulder. He uncurled the karambit from his fist, swinging out and punching forward. Blood gushed over his hands from the slash he delivered to the thigh of his shooter. A young man, maybe no more than twenty. Joe gave him a once over, twisting when the man aimed toward him and shot again, he caught the gunarm in his elbow, twisting to take down the offender. The young man crumbled, bones snapping as he went down, Joe’s blade sliding across his belly as he did. 

Nicky was in a fistfight. The man just would not _stop_. Wanted to avenge his friend with the knife to the knee and whose grey matter was crushed against the nearby wall. He took a hard hook to the jaw that had him stumbling back a bit, shaking his head to clear the fog. Nicky wiped over his mouth, smiling with bloody teeth. He ran forward, sliding to his knees and around the man quickly. Kicked him solidly in the kneecap, hearing it burst. Nicky swung up, the edge of his knee catching around the man’s shoulder and he kicked up, closed both of his knees on either side of the man’s head and gripped. His neck gave a very satisfying snap and Nicky rolled down and off of him, hissing when he felt two bullets and a foot connect. 

Joe rose up from his knees, ruthlessly merciless as he slashed without hesitation. Two of the guards fell with their throats cut. Ryzaev and the last remaining guard were trying for the door. Joe’s eyes flicked between their space and the door before he reached behind himself, quickly unfolding a balisong and flung it. It hit the guard square in the back and he gasped, both his hands trying to reach back for the weapon. 

Ryzaev rounded, pulling his gun from his coat. Nicky’s fist slammed into his face and Ryzaev sprawled out over the table of cocaine, sending it and himself onto the floor. Joe watched the guard scrabble for the knife before kicking him forward by the shoulder and pressing the knife in deeper with a swift blow of his foot. The man arched up, blood spilling from his mouth. Joe crouched down, hands wrapping around the double hilt of the blade and twisted it before pulling it free. 

Ryzaev was pleading with them, backing away on his hands. He was offering them money; women; drugs. Nicky’s hand stomped down and Ryzaev cried out, body twisting up and away from the hand crushed under Nicky’s boot. His free hand was scrambling for something to defend himself with. It was rather pathetic. 

Joe watched Nicky a moment before smiling wide as Nicky crouched over Ryzaev’s body, unspooling the thin wire from where it was wrapped around his arm. The garotte went tight around Ryzaev’s neck and he clawed at it with his free hand until Joe pinned it to the floor with his blade. Nicky’s face was calm, curious, as he knelt over Ryzaev’s body, fingers slowly tightening around the handles of the garotte and pulling them tight in opposite directions. Ryzaev’s body bucked, he choked, and Nicky ducked his head down slightly, eyes fixed on Ryzaev’s face, mouth curled in just the smallest hint of a snarl. Ryzaev went limp, one last burbling groan leaving him, before Nicky slackened the line and slowly rose up off his knees. 

Joe withdrew his knife, wiped it on his pant leg and folded it shut before securing it in place behind his back. They swept the rooms, gathering any weapons, before they left. 

The whole thing took less than five minutes.

\- - - - -

When they reached the apartment, Nicky crowded Joe against the door, breathing hot and ragged. Joe brought his hands up to Nicky’s shoulders, smoothing them down his chest and back up. Joe’s hands slowly encircled Nicky’s throat, rubbing along the tendons there, feeling the hard pound of his pulse and his ragged breathing. Joe squeezed in lightly and Nicky’s eyes almost went black, blown wide with lust. 

When they kissed it wasn’t delicate. Nicky was still fighting, gnashing with his teeth and pressing in hard with his hands. One of his hands glided along Joe’s back and unsheathed the balisong and he opened it with a quick snap. Joe broke back from the kiss with a low moan. 

“Nicolò, fuck the way you fight,” Joe let out a low groan at the way Nicky delicately traced along the seam of his stomach with the knife. “That was a sight to behold.”

Nicky bit under his chin, one hand undoing the fastenings to Joe’s protective vest while the other worked the blade in a caress over his skin. Joe’s hands worked to undress him as well, moving with urgency and also care so he didn’t catch himself on the knife. Nicky’s hand grasping the knife moved and Joe arched fully off the door and into Nicky when the blade slammed, nearly hilt deep, into the wood grain by Joe’s neck. 

“You’re going to fuck me, Yusuf.” 

Joe nodded emphatically, hands greedily moving over Nicky’s body, backing him toward the bed and devouring his mouth with hungry kisses. They removed their clothes and Nicky backed onto the bed, eyes locked on Joe’s body as Joe stepped out of his pants, kicking them away and then paused only briefly to collect lube before crawling onto the bed, almost stalking up Nicky’s body. 

Joe opened the lube, spreading it over three fingers and guided his hand between Nicky’s thighs while his other hand slid up to Nicky’s neck, cupping around his throat in promise and Nicky’s head fell back with a lurid moan. Joe pressed in with his fingers, Nicky swore and one of his hands came up to clamp against Joe’s wrist to stop himself from riding down against the press of fingers.

“Needed this, my heart? Got yourself so worked up that you can barely stand it.” Joe bit the inside of Nicky’s hip, tugging the delicate skin with his teeth. “Should’ve worked you open before we left.”

Nicky’s nails bit into his wrist and Joe chuckled, rocking his hand forward and delighting in the way Nicky’s body shook. Nicky’s free hand cupped under his own knee to pull it against his chest and hold himself open as Joe diligently worked with his fingers. 

“Keep yourself like that, my love, just like that.” Joe smoothed more lube down his cock and shuffled up the small distance to Nicky before pressing his cock in. 

Nicky bit his own wrist to muffle the noise that left him, staring at Joe with a mixture of heat and utter awe. Joe pulled back a moment, teasing as his cock slipped out before he snapped his hips forward in a sharp thrust. Nicky’s back bowed off the bed and Joe gave a delighted hiss at the way Nicky’s whole body rolled with the motion and Nicky was _coming_ wet and messy, streaking up over his chest. 

Joe settled, one arm braced beside Nicky’s head, the other stroking over his face. Nicky moaned softly, looking up at Joe and giving him a love drunk smile. Joe leaned down, sucking at Nicky’s lower lip as Nicky’s legs drew up and his heels were digging into the small of Joe’s back to urge him on. 

Joe let out a pleased rumble and slammed his hips forward before withdrawing almost completely, letting the fat head of his cock stretch Nicky’s rim before he was slamming back in again. Nicky let out a gasp, one hand clawing down Joe’s back as he rolled his hips up. 

Nicky was hot and tight, desperate in a way he rarely got, and it was fraying on Joe’s control. He fucked deep into Nicky, enjoying the breathless gasps and low moans Nicky was making. Nicky rose one of his own hands up and spat into it and Joe shuddered at the action, so unlike the composed image Nicky loved to present. Nicky wrapped his fist around his cock, giving a low, satisfied sigh as he went lax in Joe’s arms, content to be used. 

Joe was really grateful the bed didn’t have a headboard because he knew that they’d be making an awful racket. Nicky was responsive but quiet and Joe wished desperately that they could have done this somewhere where Nicky could have screamed himself hoarse. He shoved forward on his knees, sending Nicky hitched up on the bed and Nicky’s free hand sprawled back to brace against the wall for leverage as he lifted his hips up. 

Joe’s mouth dropped to Nicky’s chest, biting and licking, before he rose up to Nicky’s mouth. Nicky licked into his mouth, moaning and letting it get just a bit louder as Joe purposefully angled his cock to roll over his prostate, clenching tight on each pass. His free hand slid up back around Nicky’s throat and he could feel the vibration of a moan under his hands and against his tongue. 

When they broke apart Nicky panted softly, mouth wet and red, and he nodded. Joe squeezed, and Nicky whined, it wasn’t tight, not by half, but Nicky’s cock twitched and drooled on his stomach. Joe braced his weight on his legs, grinding his hips in slow swivels as he brought his other hand up, cupping just underneath Nicky’s jaw before resettling and clamping down. Nicky’s eyes rolled back in his head as he curled his free hand around Joe’s bicep. Joe released when he felt the hand tap twice and Nicky sucked in air, squirming against him. 

“Nicolò,” Joe rasped out, enraptured. 

Nicky arched up and Joe swore when he felt the slight cold of Nicky’s stiletto, the stiletto he’d gifted him, sliding along the line of his ribs. How Nicky had kept it on himself and tucked away Joe wasn’t sure, but he looked down to glance between them. The black titanium was clean, slightly warm from body heat. Joe swallowed, barely able to hold back his shout as Nicky’s hand slid up, dragging the blade with it, the tip of the blade caught on the edge of Joe’s nipple and Nicky pressed in, just enough. 

Joe trembled with the need to release, eyes looking toward Nicky’s face, almost asking for permission. Nicky smiled, thin and kind, and twisted his hand, the blade was not meant for slicing, but for a quick in and out stab, so when the needle fine point cut along his breastbone, Joe’s resolve snapped. He thrust up into Nicky in staccato bursts before he came with a bitten off moan, his world going white around the edges. 

When Joe drifted back into himself they were tucked together, curled on their sides now, with Nicky’s knuckles gently caressing his face. Joe turned into the touch, kissing Nicky’s hand as it passed his mouth and pressed a smile into his wrist. “This was good.”

“Agreed. I like my gift, by the way.” Joe’s eyes drifted to Nicky’s other hand, then to the edge of the bed where the blade was tucked away safely. 

“You were a true master with it.”

Nicky cocked his head to the side, smiling slightly impishly. “Next one perhaps can be handcuffs?”

Joe groaned, dropping his forehead to Nicky’s shoulder and laughed. “Insatiable.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you've noticed I missed a tag please let me know!
> 
> I have a tumblr [here](https://a-little-bit-of-ultra-violence.tumblr.com) and a twitter @bookwormywriter where you can contact me and flail. You can also send me prompts. _please_
> 
> You can also hit me up on the new fan discord [here](https://discord.gg/DwKHcym). We'd love to have you
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
